


Trapped

by voidslantern



Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-27
Updated: 2018-02-27
Packaged: 2019-03-24 22:21:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13820634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voidslantern/pseuds/voidslantern
Summary: The Outsider was trapped in the Void for a very, very long time.





	Trapped

**Author's Note:**

> A little something I was trying to write but left unfinished. Maybe I'll revisit it someday, but I just want to put it out in case I lose my drafts.

While the Outsider mostly existed within the dreams of mortals, some part of him had always remained rooted to his physical form trapped on an island within the endless depths of the Void.   
It was lonely there. And cold.  
Sometimes, he could see restless souls wonder by. Most didn’t recognise him. Most didn’t bother to look or sense him. But some stayed. Some were drawn to him, and remained there by his side until the life force of their spirit ebbed away, drained by the Void’s insatiable hunger until there was nothing left.   
Some of those spirits still carried his Mark. Some were people who fascinated him, or made him boil with anger strong enough to match that of the Void herself.  
And then there were those the Outsider was actually glad to see.   
An old, wise woman, one of the few who never, even in the darkest times of her life, wished to harm another. She made respect stir deep within the Outsider.  
A boy, almost a child, as lonely as the Outsider, would always come and talk, when he was still alive and when he fully entered the Void. He’d always been the best company, his weird and often genius ideas earning the Outsider’s attention long before he had Marked the boy.  
A young man with only one eye, his astral form as full of humour as was his physical body, someone very unique for making the Outsider laugh out loud. For a Vessel of the Void, that was a rare occurrence, as any other near mortal feeling.  
And yet here it was.   
When two souls that were meant to be one had come and stayed, both talking to him, calling for him, trying to warm his cold as stone skin back to life, just begging, longing, aching for justice because they both new the horror of what the Outsider endured and kept enduring every moment of his endless existence. The twins stayed by his side the longest, faithful and loving him, until the very last embers of their being were swept away, the Outsider could nearly sense the loss shattering his heart.  
The Vessels of the Void do not have hearts, he’d have to remind himself. But it hurt nonetheless.  
Those – and a few more – were what a mortal would call the Outsider’s friends, expect a god cannot have friends. Not to mention having lovers. The idea of it alone would make the Abbey howling at the moon and executing anyone suspected in such heresies on sight.   
But the Outsider took lovers. Rarely. Carefully. But he did, still surprised finding himself in need of something like that. But the Void was primal in nature, and perhaps it just rubbed on the Outsider, too.   
Of all the few lovers of his, the Royal Protected stood the brightest. Not only because he was still alive, his mind still intact even after all he went through, even after wearing the Mark for fifteen years, it was just... Just how it was.  
Corvo wasn’t a believer. He didn’t care for Seven Strictures, he didn’t even care for the Outsider before meeting him. It amused the god, and amused even more so as the Serkonan struggled with his new abilities, his warrior mind in conflict with sudden magic flowing through his veins.  
But Corvo did well, didn’t he, and remained true to what the Outsider saw in his heart when Attano was much younger and for what he picked him a long time before he had Marked him. So it made pride stir beneath the ice cold stone, and warmth brushed the Outsider’s frozen face every time he visited Corvo.   
Sometimes in between the eternities in the Void the Outsider though that the last remnants of his human nature were his only shield against just fading away. He knew it wasn’t possible. He knew he was the Vessel and was trapped in the Void for an eternity, but that time when shaking hands of a soul about to be swept away into the nothing held his face and she whispered her last goodbye the Outsider willed himself to follow.  
It didn’t work. He stayed, trapped, watching with his black eyes as someone he cared for was claimed by the endless Void.   
He raged and trashed, filling the minds of mortals with nightmares and cold fingers clawing at their throats. Afterwards, replaying loss after loss he had endured during his four thousand years of existence, the Outsider hadn’t bothered with mortals until he fully realised he cannot remain in the Void for much longer.


End file.
